


Little Bird ||larry||

by QueenofAssLouis



Category: One Direction, directioners, larrie - Fandom
Genre: 1d, BoyxBoy, Fanfic, Fanfiction, Harry Styles - Freeform, LGBT, Louis Tomlinson - Freeform, M/M, Mpreg, harry - Freeform, larrie, larry - Freeform, larry stylinson - Freeform, louis - Freeform, one direction - Freeform, stylinson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-21 02:50:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16150982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenofAssLouis/pseuds/QueenofAssLouis
Summary: For as long as he can remember, Harry Styles has been a man of business meetings and bossing people around. As a stern smart-ass, he has no time --or patience-- for play. But when Harry runs into a lively and innocent Louis, his priorities start to shift.With the threat of toxic lovers and past decisions creeping up on them, the two must decide what they want and for a while it seems obvious. But when Louis disappears for a while, Harry is in for the surprise of his life...Whether it's good or bad, well... we'll just have to see***********A fluffy story of romance, jealousy and a whole lot of miscommunication that could either warm your heart or crush your soul.Sorry 'bout it.





	1. Seeing Love in a Coffee Shoppe

I pinch the bridge of my nose.

The aroma of coffee beans floats around me. The shoppe isn't that busy tonight.

I loosen my tie as I talk, "Listen, Vincent- the server equipment worked and it worked rather well. We added the newest piece and now something is wrong. . .have we looked at it?" I ask, my voice is rough from the multiple phone calls I've been making and receiving all day.

"We have and everything is doing it's job."

I take a deep breath.

"I think it might be some of the old servers." he says quickly.

"I get it." I tell him, trying to keep my cool, "You don't want to admit that adding a £50,000 piece of equipment was a waste of money. It hasn't helped the network, it hasn't enhanced the job of our old servers. It's only given us more things to worry about." I try to stay calm, "Have you ever heard the phrase, "if it isn't broke don't fix it?" Well guess what Vinny? Now it's broke. So fix it." I say and hang up.

I pull the Bluetooth from my ear and throw it down on the table. As I set my elbows on the table and rub my face, I can feel the stress tensing my shoulders. With a frustrated sigh, I begin typing another email to my boss.

//I regret to inform you that server 2h659 was a terrible mista//

No I can't say that. I delete it.

//I regret to inform you that server 2h659 was horrible decis//

No.

//I regret to inform you that server 2h659 was a horrendou//

Nope.

//I regret to inform you that server 2h659 is a fucking disgrace to all man kind and would only be useful as an elephant buttplug.//

Perfect, I think to myself.

Rolling my eyes, I delete that message as well. I rub my forehead, hoping that the dreadful pounding will go away.

I need a break. I scan around the cafe, seeing if anyone in this place looks like they could have some sort of common sense, because apparently my team doesn't. I see a few people scattered around the shoppe, some workers behind the counter and-

My heart jumps:

His brunette hair falls over his eyes as he scribbles something down onto a journal page. His tongue sticks out between his thin, pink lips. The contours of his cheekbones are prominent under the lights. His eyebrows are scrunched together, as if in deep concentration.

Joanne sets a cup next to him, pulling the beautiful boy out of his trance.

She leans over and looks at whatever he's writing, "Oh that's beautiful Lou." she praises the boy- Lou.

He smiles. It's infectious-- I'm smiling too.

He's so cute. One side of his mouth pulling higher than the other, "Thank you." Lou says in the most adorable accent I've ever heard.

"He would like it." Joanne says and looks up, accidentally locking gaze with me. The boy looks at me as well and now I know I've stopped breathing.

I quickly look to my computer screen and start typing random things.

//I am typing this because i was almost caught blah bah blah la la la yada yda dya doo pee dooo//

I take a peek up at Lou and Joanne but she's gone and the boy has gone back to his journal. I feel starstruck. I have, truly, never met someone who has given me a heart-stopping moment.

He is so stunning. I feel a pull toward him, wanting to know more. What's a beautiful boy like him doing in a place like this? Would he wanna get out of here? In a flash, I see that tan sweater in a crumpled pile on my floor.

Woah tiger. I pull myself back to reality. This isn't a bar. Calm down. I shake those stupidly hot pictures out of my mind. What? I can't help it, it's been a while.

I take a deep breath and stand. The chair scrapes against the wooden floors. Lou looks up.

I lick my lips and give him a lopsided smile. Confident. . .smooth. He blushes and gives me a small, shy smile.

Goddamn.

I smile wider. I take a step and

RING RING RING

I look down at my phone. It's lit up, screeching against the table.

RING RING RING

I bite my lip and look back at Lou. His big, blue eyes stare back almost pleading me to ignore the call and talk to him. I mentally groan and sit back down.

I shove my Bluetooth back in my ear. I click ANSWER

"This better be good." I growl and start re-writing my email. My fingers move impossibly fast as my co-worker, Jonathan, starts telling me yet another problem about server 2h659.

I interrupt him two minutes into the spiel.

"Jon, listen. If we don't get this server fixed, I am sending an email to Donaldson- and let me tell you, he will not be happy. So I am saying this one. Last. Time. Server 2h659 is hosting a virus that is infecting the rest of the equipment. I need your department to look into the circuit board and find it. Once it's out, either the servers will run as they're supposed to or they'll run faster." I say.

"Alright, we'll look into it, but I'm pretty sure that 2h659 is not the prob-"

"I swear to God," I stop typing, "Jonathan if you tell me that it's not the problem I will have you fired." I say and begin typing again.

"Yes, sorry sir." he mutters.

"Get it fixed." I say and hang up. I finish up the email.

//So, I apologize for any delays in the programming. If you have any more question for me, please don't refrain from asking. Call me at XXX-XXX-XXX.

Sincerely,

Director Harry Styles.//

I hit send, shutting the laptop and I look up. My heart drops when Lou is no longer sitting there.

"Damn it" I quietly curse my job for taking away a perfect opportunity to meet with the beautiful boy.

I sigh and throw my laptop into the messenger bag and shove my Bluetooth into the pocket. I pull the messenger bag over my shoulder.

"Night 'arry!" Joanne and Lydia yell from behind the counter.

"Night ladies!" I call from over my shoulder.


	2. Crazy Cat Lady

I get home in an exceptionally bad mood. I can't believe I missed my chance. Wait. I didn't miss my chance, fucking work made me miss my chance.

I throw my bag onto the couch and flop down. I hear little bells trotting over to me and I can feel my mood lift. Then, my cat, Jezabell, jumps up next to me.

"Hi love." I greet her with a pat on the head. She meows at me and rolls onto her back. I rub her belly and turn on the telly. Grey's Anatomy (our favorite show) is still pulled up from our last binge watch. I press play and set Jezabell on my lap. We watch it for a good hour or two and I set her beside me again, she meows in protest. But, I need to check my emails.

Once I see that nothing is too out of the ordinary, I look down at her.

"What do you want for dinner, love?" I ask Jezabell. She doesn't move from her spot on my lap. I reach over and pause the episode and she stands up, putting her paws on my chest as if to say, "Why you do dis hoomun??"

"What do you want for dinner?" she tilts her head as if to say, "Well when you put it like that. . ."

"Mcdonalds?" she stares at me.

"Nandos?" she stares at me.

". . .How about PF Changs?"

She meows and I take it as a yes. I open another tab on my computer and look at the menu.

"Does this look good Jezy?" I ask pointing to one of the pictures. She meows and I dial the number.

"Hi, yeah can I get the uh, Oolong Chilean Sea bass and," I turn to Jezabell, "Would you eat the Ahi if I got the salad?"

She meows.

"Yeah and the Chang's salad with Seared Ahi?"

"For delivery."

"Alright, thanks bye." I hang up and look at Jezabell. I sigh and stare at the back door and see my golf clubs sitting set nicely in the corner.

"Let's go outside." I say and she beats me to the back door. I slide it open and she happily prances around in the back yard.

"I swear you're actually a dog." I call to her but she ignores me and jumps onto the dandelions, making the little fuzzes go everywhere. I tug the bag of golf clubs to the deck and balance them beside me. I grab my bucket full of golf balls, setting a few in a nice row in the cracks of the wood.

I line up my first shot, imagining the face of my stupid boss. I pull back and. . .WHACK.

He flies through the trees and somewhere in the small forest. My shoulders relax.

I hit a few more before the door bell rings. I drop the club back into the the bag and walk inside. I open the front door and take the food from the delivery guy. I take out my wallet and Jezabell peaks her head around the door and the guy jumps.

I try to hold back a laugh, "Dude, it's just a cat."

"I-I know. . .my bad. I just-"

"Don't worry about it." I say and hand the guy the money. I shut the door and take the food to the couch.

I unwrap the bass and set it on the coffee table for Jezabell. I open mine and pick off the parts for Jezy. I take a fork full of the salad and shove it in my mouth.

"God, this is like heaven. . ." I say and shovel another pile into my mouth, "good idea Jez."

I sigh and lay back, setting my feet up on the coffee table and press play on the episode of Grey's. I set my salad on my lap and take another bite of it.

Jezabell has picked out all the fish from her plate and jumped down from the coffee table. She look back up at me I pause the show.

"What?" I ask and she turns and trots toward the stairs.

I look down at the spread of food on the coffee table. "Oh no, it's good. I'll clean it up." I call as she starts up the stairs. She meows in reply.

I shake my head and turn back to the TV. 

 

Jesus Christ, I need more human interaction.


	3. Teasing Love in a Coffee Shoppe

After another four days of being in the office, I decide it's time for a change of scenery-- or perhaps I'm hoping to see the beautiful boy again. . .either way, literally anyone else's company would be better than sitting with my team, arguing about what the problem with our server equipment is.

I burst through the door. The bells jingle loudly as I walk in. Only three or four people are scattered around the cafe.

I immediately search for the boy from a few days ago. What was his name?

As I lock my gaze on the brunette figure, hunched over a journal, I remember.

Lou.

I try to suppress a smile that's rising to my face as I walk across the wooden floor boards to my usual seat. The loud clunk of my shoes against the floor doesn't even make Lou flinch. He's too concentrated on his work.

I should be too. So, I pull out my laptop and get started. I start to open a few emails and read them. They mostly consist of my team telling me there is not a problem with the goddamn server.

I start to compose an email, meticulously pointing out where they are wrong and how I am right. But, I am interrupted.

"Hello Harry." I hear Lydia's voice. I look up. Her blonde curls frame her face beautifully. She has a special glow to her. Lydia smiles, placing my usual cup of tea in front of me.

"Lydia! How are you?- Well, you both." I say, looking down to her very pregnant belly, "Due next month, right?"

She smiles down at me and places a hand on the bottom of her stomach, "Yup, Micheal or Juliet will be crying and pooing everywhere."

"Well, they will be a good child because they have a beautiful, caring mum." I say with a smile.

"Aw, thank you Harry." Lydia says, slightly tearing up, "Ugh, hormones." she laughs and fans her eyes.

"As the godfather of your child, it's my responsibility to tell you how amazing you are."

"Don't worry Harry, no one can take the position from you." She says, knowing fully that I don't want her to revoke my godfather privilege.

"Just in case." I shrug and smile up at her. My phone starts to ring on the table, "Say hello to Chris for me."

"Will do." Lydia says and turns to go back to the kitchen.

I pick up and phone and close the current email on my screen, "This is Harry."

"Mr. Styles, it's Greg. I was calling because Vincent and Jonathan said you believed there was a problem with the server 2h659."

"There's a virus within the circuit board of 2h659." I say.

"Well actually. . ." Greg starts. He continues to tell me a long, useless list of reasons why the server could not possibly have any viruses. 

I don't need to hear this conversation. I know what's wrong with the server. But, I let him talk so he feels accomplished before I tear him down.

I rest my head in my hand and close my eyes. He tells me how the server was built. Piece by piece.

By the time I finish my tea, he's still telling me each wire that's connected to the server. 

I look around. Well actually, I look at Lou. He's so beautiful. I wish he would look up. Even a glance would satisfy me. Give me any attention at all. . .

I wonder if he thinks I'm cute? Handsome? Maybe even hot? . . .Where did I read that one thing where people think you're hotter if you roll up your sleeves? If I roll up my sleeves will it make me hotter? Is there any scientific back to that?

My eyes move to my buttoned sleeves. Hmm. . .

I reach down and pull the button out. I shift the phone in between my cheek and shoulder as I start to fold my sleeves back. The shirt becoming tighter around my arm. I push the folded material to my elbow and switch to the other arm.

I look up in the middle of rolling up the sleeve and catch Lou's eye. He's looking at me. I grin.

If there's no scientific backing, I can test my own hypothesis.

I wink at him and grab my phone from my shoulder. I look to my computer and tap a few buttons randomly to make it seem like I'm actually doing work.

From the corner of my eye I can see his cheeks get red and a bashful smile grace his face. He goes back to his journal. I feel giddy, knowing that I have some sort of affect on Lou.

"Alright Greg." I stop the man who is still talking, "So, I'm not-" 

Wait. 

Lou could still be listening. . .I need to choose my words very carefully. I can't have him thinking I'm an asshole. . .yet.

"Not what, Sir?" Greg asks.

"I'm not sure why they had you call me. I completely understand the under-workings of server 2h659, that's why I'm concerned that we have a faulty server. It would be great if you guys could just run one test to make my mind at ease."

"But Mr. Styles-"

"It costs nothing to run a test and I'm absolutely positive that Donaldson would love to hear that the new server he spent £50,000 on, is working perfectly." I say calmly.

"Ehm. . .okay." Greg sounds uncertain.

"Great. I will except the report to be sent to me by 20:00 tomorrow evening. You know I don't like staying up late." 

"Yes, right away."

"Thanks Greg." I say and hang up.

I look over to Louis who is looking at me once again. He blushes and looks down at his journal.

Now is my chance. I finally get to talk to him. No work, no nothing. Only me and him.

I crack my knuckles and just as I'm about to stand

RING RING RING

You have GOT to be fucking-

RING RING RING

"What?" I snap, answering this god forsaken phone call, "I swear to god Vinny if you're calling to tell me something about the server. . ." I glare hard at the screen of my computer.

"Uh, well, sir, we need you at the office so you can supervise the tests you requested . ."

I inhale and exhale very deeply and then speak as calmly as I can manage, "Alright. I will be there in 20." I hang up the phone and set it down next to the laptop.

Mentally, I am flipping every goddamn table in this coffee shoppe and screaming at the top of my lungs. I better get a fucking raise after this goddamn bullshit.

In reality, I stuff the stupid computer into the stupid bag and then, angrily, leave the stupid shoppe and the stupidly adorable boy inside of it.

I better get a fucking raise.


	4. Slamming Into Love at a Coffee Shoppe

After impatiently waiting for my team to run a simple test on the server, I drove home, feeling defeated. Not only was I not able to talk with the ever-so beautiful Lou, but also, my team still refuses to believe that the stupid fucking server is the problem!

"Ugh!" I plop down onto my bed and Jezabell lays on my back.

"Am I meant to be alone forever?!" I yell into the sheets. Jez meows at me.

I roll over, placing her next to me. Lou's beautiful blue eyes pop into my head and that beautiful head of hair, and his smooth, thin lips.

I never believed in love at first sight until I've seen this boy. Perhaps it's the fact that I've never had a steady relationship, or maybe it's because I have commitment issues, but I know one thing for sure:

I need to know Lou.

"Maybe. . . I just need to be more persistent about it."

Jezabell meows in, what I take as, agreement.

* * *

I walk into the shoppe for the fifth day in a row. Lou hasn't been back since the day I left to supervise the stupid test --and their team won't be finished with the report until Monday (so precious Lou time wasted).

I've been so keen on getting the chance to talk to him that I have purposely left my phone at home a few times-- which, unfortunately, left me to call about twenty different people each time I got back.

I've sat in here for about three hours at around the same time I saw him last, yet he hasn't returned.

I check my watch and decide I can't honestly stay here and make it look like I'm doing work when, in reality, I'm glancing at the door every two minutes.

Just then, my phone starts ringing.

Of course.

I see it's Greg, and with a small pep-talk, I answer the phone,"Styles."

"Hi sir, it's Greg. Ehm, so I have bad new concerning server 2h596."

"Oh, great." I say as I scroll through the top newsfeed on Google.

"Ehm. . yes. The test that you were supposed to supervise, it, ehm. . .well it. . ."

I start to get impatient, "Spit it out, Greg. It what?"

"It was incomplete. You left early, so they couldn't continue the scheduled-"

My veins fill with a fiery anger, I slam my fist on the table, scaring a few of the other customers, "Don't you dare tell me that they didn't finish the test." I say through my teeth, "If you do, that would mean over 20 people would have to be mentioned by me to Donaldson in an unfortunate report that states those people did not do their jobs-- because that's what it is Greg, their job."

"But, Mr. Styles-" Greg tries to interject.

"They should not need me to tell them how to do their job. If that is the case, then I'm going to need to find a new team that is qualified!"

I realize the volume of my voice has risen. I put myself in check, taking a deep breath.

"If the report isn't on my desk in the next three days, I am going to find a new team that can run this simple, goddamn test. Understand?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"Good. Pass on the message." I say and hang up.

Jesus Christ! Now I have to do other peoples jobs as well?! I have enough to deal with between meetings and managing my own team, but now I have to over-see other teams as well? I'm already responsible for over 300 people! I dont need this right now.

I angrily shove my computer into the bag and grab my cup of coffee, but just as I stand, my phone starts to ring again.

My heart rate increases and I can feel hot anger boil in my chest as I head for the exit.

I look at the caller-ID, trying to push through the door, but it collides with someone on the other side. This collision causes me to run into the door, spilling part of the coffee on my shirt, and --just to top it all off--I have accidentally answered my phone.

Are yOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!

"Ow!" Someone yells.

I push through the door and whip around. The persons belongings are scattered and he lays on the concrete. The person is holding their forehead. I feel light-headed with the amount of rage that fills my body.

"Jesus fucking Christ! Watch where you're going you fucking pillock!" I exclaim, venom laced in every word.

"I am so sorry I didn-"

Bright blue, terrified eyes look up to me. It's Lou. He looks as if all the air has been sucked out of him. His mouth is open, not sure what words could calm me.

It's a look a can recognize all too well. I have that effect on people.

The hostility dulls as I realize what I've done.

"Mr. Styles? Sir?" I can hear Jonathan on the phone.

"Fucking hell." I mutter and turn, holding the phone up to my ear, "Hold it, Jon."

I whip back around, my cold, wet shirt sticking to me as I gather a few of Lou's scattered pencils and papers. We both stand at the same time.

"Here." I push the things into his chest.

Lou looks bewildered, "Thanks?"

"Yeah." I say quickly and turn around, walking back to my car. Lou's large blue eyes are burned into my mind.

I hold the phone up to my ear once more, "You know what, Jon? I need to call you back." I say and hang up without a response.

I open my car and sit in the driver's seat.

"God! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" I yell, hitting the wheel, "What the actual fuck! Come ON man! Fuck!" I yell at myself and turn on the car, "You fucking idiot! God!"

I angrily drive back to my flat. I step into the house from the garage still grumbling to myself. When I walk in I see Niall, my best mate, sitting on the couch, petting Jezabell.

"You look like shit!" Niall laughs and sits up.

"How the fuck did you get in here?" I ask, throwing my keys into the bowl and slamming the door behind me.

"You leave your spare key under the mat, fuckhead." he says and turns down the telly, "Who pissed in your coffee?" he holds out a beer for me.

I let out a frustrated sigh, sitting next to Niall on the couch and grab the beer from his hand, " "I made myself look like a total arse in front of a guy I'm interested in." I take a swig.

"You? Harry fucking Styles? I doubt that." Niall chuckles.

"Fuck off," I say and cross my arms, "You should have seen him. Scared shitless."

"Oh please you wou-"

"First I hit him with a door."

Nialls mouth falls open.

"I hit him with a door, verbally abused him, and left."

Niall lets out an inhumane laugh and falls backward into a fit of giggles.

"Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up." I grumble, taking another swig from the beer.

"Well serves you right. You have to get that temper under control. You can be a real dick."

"Wow mate, really makes me feel better."

Niall calms down and proposes an idea, "Hey, why don't we go out tonight? Leave the phone here. Take a night off. Forget him and get you someone else." Niall suggests.

I ignore his last remark because there is no way in hell I could find someone half as beautiful as Lou, but I weigh my options.

1\. Stay in and pout about the most gorgeous boy in the world

or

2\. Get drunk with my friend and make questionable choices

* * *

Before I know it, Niall and I are sitting at the counter in his favorite pub. Our friends Daniel and Nick laugh loudly as Niall tells a stupid joke. I'm still pouting about Lou.

Niall orders another two shots for us as I start drinking my third glass of beer. I feel light, swaying to the murmurs of useless conversations around me that mix with some trashy emo band.

I turn to Niall, "Why do we like this place again?" I slur to the giggling boys next to me as I lean on the polished bar-top to balance myself.

"Well the drinks are pretty damn good." Niall says

"And the view is a close second." Nick chimes in, nodding to a couple of girls behind me. The two women giggle as I glance over my shoulder. The blonde one quickly looks away, a shy smile on her face, and whispers to her brunette friend.

"Fair 'nough." I say, and clink my shot glass to his and throw it back. I swallow thickly, the vodka burning my throat. I look at Niall who seems to be staring down a boy at the front of the bar, "Oi, you've been looking at 'im all night. Jus go over there and talk to 'im. We'll be fine- can handle me-self."

"Really?" Niall looking suspiciously at my slightly swaying figure as Daniel and Nick snicker behind him.

"Yeah, really." Daniel says.

Niall squints his eyes at me and holds up three of his fingers, "How many fingers?"

I squint back at him and purse my lips, "I dunno, how many am I holding up?" I ask and show him my middle finger.

He shakes his head and smiles as the two behind him let out a bellowing laugh.

"Fuck off then." I say and shove my thumb in the direction of the boy Niall was looking at, "Get laid." He nods and makes his way over.

I swivel back to my half empty beer. I can still hear the two girls whispering, but I don't focus on that. Instead, I think of the one person I was trying not to remember: the beautiful fucking boy I can't ever talk to, apparently.

"So you've got some boy troubles, eh?" Nick asks.

"Oh s' now my relationship status 's out in the open, huh? Thanks Niall." I raise my glass toward Niall who is already chatting with a group of guys in the front.

"Nah mate, 'can just tell. You've been mopin' 'round all night. So tell Uncle Nicky," he pulls his stool next to me while Daniels chin rests on Nicks shoulder, "what's got you down?"

I roll my eyes and huff, "I can't fooking talk to this guy. Every chance I get, someones got somethin' they need. God. You know, I've talked ta hundreds of people, yeah? But this guy," I shrug my shoulders, "when I open mah mouth, I sound like a fooking dickhead."

I start to feel a little dizzy. The two girls are still giggling.

"Oi, it's probably not that bad. If gay guys are anythin' like girls, they'll find it. . .ehm. . .sexy." Nick says in an attempt to comfort me.

"You can't say that-- someone's bound to get offended." I hear Daniel point out.

"Well, nevermind that then! I would find it sexy'!"

I rest my head in my hands, digging my palms into my eyes. My stomach rolls. "I think I need to go home." I whisper.

"Don't let one lad ruin your night!" Nick exclaims.

The two girls behind us start moving, I can hear their stupid heels scrape against the floor.

"No, no. 's not that." I say, trying to even my breathing, "Think I'm gonna be sick."

"Do it Claire! Just talk to him." the brunette whispers rather loudly. The room feels like it's spinning.

Just as the blonde starts to walk over to us, I push myself away from the bar and start to go outside.

"Oi! 'arry!" Nick exclaims.

My black boots clunk against the wood floors. I push the door open just as I hear Nick say, "Sorry, don't mind 'im. Just a little love-sick."

I heave up the contents of my stomach onto the front lawn of the bar. People from the outside patio cheer for me.

I stumble over to the side of the road, plopping down onto the curb. I can't help but let out a drunken chuckle.

Love-sick.

Fuck that.


	5. Apologizing to Love in a Coffee Shoppe

My phone shrieks, pulling me from a deep sleep.

I roll over, "I swear to god Vinny. . ." I mumble to myself as I pick up the phone.

I press answer without looking at the ID, "What?"

"Harry!" Niall yells into the phone.

I flinch at his volume, "What?" I repeat myself as a headache forms.

"Oh my god! The guy last night? In a word: HOT. Like, whoa. He was so HOT. But I totally lost sight of you! How are you holding up?"

"Good, good. Just a little hungover. I've always been a lightweight, you know." I say, rubbing my eye with the back of my hand.

He laughs, sending a light thumping through my head, "Yeah, I suppose so." Niall agrees, "Anyway, I was just making sure you were still alive and it appears you are, so I'll talk to you later."

"Yeah man. Later." I hang up the phone and roll over. Ugh. Bad choices always catch up with you.

* * *

With a headache that's formed from a long day at work (not the hangover), I walk into the rather quiet coffee shoppe. Only smooth jazz quietly fills the space, with a light murmur of conversation from a group of school girls in the back.

I sit at my normal spot, setting my computer bag on top of the table and close my eyes. Today was a long day filled with too many meetings with too many people who knew too little about what they were talking about.

I crack my neck and pull out my laptop. I have to write a few emails to other teams just to check on the progress of certain patches and servers, but I need to start with checking my inbox.

I log into my email and see that there is, in fact, a new message for me. It's from the group that ran tests the other day.

Subject: Server 2h659

"Here we go." I mutter as I roll my eyes and take a deep breath. I know fully what this email is going to entail: my victory.

I open and scan what they've written and click on the attachments, just to check their work.

On cue, my phone starts ringing. I look down and see that it's Vincent hosting a conference call. I recognize a few of the names from my office, but there are a few I can't recall.

I pick up, "Styles."

"Hey. Did you get the test results from Hank's team?" Vincent asks, fully knowing that I have.

"Yup. What a surprise. Server 2h659 had a virus and was tampering with the other equipment." I say in a mono-toned voice.

"So, you were right in the end. We're sorry about that. But this means that we need a new plan." Vinny says, I can detect a hint of embarrassment. Good. I think to myself, you all should listen to what I say more often.

"So uh," Jon interjects awkwardly, "from here, if you could let Donaldson know and come up with a completely different strategy for 2h65-"

"Whoa. Hold it." I say, interrupting him. I take a deep breath. They are not about to put this back on me. "From here, your people will compose a detailed email about what the problems were, how they developed, and then ask Donaldson what he proposes your next steps will be. I already have problems with patches on a different server and this little-- hmm, shall we call it --project on server 2h659 needs to be done by the end of the week." 

"Oh, uhm," Vinny stumbles,"right, yes. Right away."

"Anything else?" I ask, hoping they realize it is a rhetorical question.

"No."

"Very well. Get it done." I say curtly, and hang up. I set the phone down next to my computer and shake my head. "Honestly." I whisper to myself. 

"Hard day at work?" a voice pipes up from behind me.

"Huh?" I whip around and see Lydia smiling with a cup of tea in her hands, "Oh, yeah. My team has realized that I do, actually, know what I'm doing. Surprising, right?" I ask sarcastically as she sets the tea next to my computer and I give her a grin.

"Oh, very." Lydia smiles, "Well, hang in there, Harry. It gets better." She smiles and ruffles my hair.

"Ugh," I fake a grimace, "You sound like a cat poster that they hang up in an HR office."

She laughs and walks to the counter, ready to grab someone else's order. I look away, smiling.

In that moment, I lock eyes with a blue pair from across the room. 

Lou.

He quickly looks away, a sad frown on his face.

The events of last week pop into my head and something strange happens: I feel as if I've been punched in the chest. All the air escapes my lungs as I remember the terrified expression he gave me: sitting on the side walk, his body rigid with fear and big blue eyes, wide and innocent.

I look to my computer screen.

I think it's guilt-- what I'm feeling.

It's something I have not felt for a long time. The last memory of feeling guilty is when I broke my mothers favorite decorative plates. I was kicking a football around the house and it slammed into the side table where they were displayed. This was right before she divorced my father, so I knew she was stressed. I felt so horribly that I attempted to look for replicas on the internet.

The need to apologize starts clawing at me, another thing that I haven't felt the need to do in a long time. 

I sigh, closing my laptop and shoving it into the bag. I can't focus. I pull the strap of the bag over my should and find myself walking toward his table. 

My shoes clunk across the wooden floors, pulling me to stand in front of Lou's table. I know he's aware of my presence, but he refuses to look up. 

I clear my throat, "Excuse me."

Lou looks up through his lashes, then back down at his notepad. A moment passes and he sets down his pencil and paper on the table. Lou flicks the hair out of his eyes and finally meets my gaze.

He says nothing, attempting to put on a tough persona-- but I can see straight through it. He's looking at every part of my face-- except the eyes, his arms are crossed (which is an obvious sign of defensiveness), and his shoulders are tensed.

"Uhm, hi I just. . .I just wanted to apologize," I say and Lou looks surprised, his body language relaxing, "for my behavior the last time we ran into each other-- quite literally."

The corner of lips pulls up slightly.

"I had a lot to deal with at the time and I was overwhelmed, but it's no excuse for the way I treated you. I'm sorry."

Lou is quiet for a moment, soaking in my apology.

He finally speaks up, "Alright."

I feel deflated, my shoulders sinking slightly. 

I don't know what I had expected. It's almost laughable to think that I had a hope that Lou would brush it off and welcome me with opening arms, perhaps even offer me a seat and we could laugh about how I spilled coffee on myself or how his stuff flew all over the place.

Stupid.

"Alright." I say and turn on my heels, heading for the door.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I'm so stupid that even as I walk out the door and down the street I still hope that he will follow me and say-

"Curly!" I hear someone yell, "Hey curly! Wait up!"

Is that directed toward me? As I turn around, I'm surprised at the sight: it's Lou, jogging toward me. When he catches up, he's slightly out of breath, "Jesus," Lou pants, "you walk fast."

My brows are furrowed, what is he doing here?

Lou straightens up, "I just wanted to say. . .that I'm sorry too."

I am taken aback.

He sees my surprise and chuckles, "Yeah, you were right. I am a bit of an oaf sometimes. . ." he kicks the ground lightly and looks up at me, "What happened was my fault too."

I'm not sure how to process this situation, but I decide to let my face relax into a smile, "Alright."

Lou smiles back at me and nods, "Alright."

There's a silence.

Lou stuffs his hands into his sweater pockets and shrugs, "Well, it was nice to meet you, curly."

"Harry." I say.

Lou gives me a strange look and laughs, "I think curly implies that you're hairy."

"No, not like," I point to my hair, "hairy-hair. Harry as in, that's my name."

This makes him laugh louder, "Oh! Duh!"

My smile gets wider as Lou laughs at himself.

"It was nice to meet you, Harry." Lou grins at me and swings his backpack around to the front, "And if you ever want to steamroll over someone again," he unzips it, ripping a piece of paper out of a notebook and scribbling something down, "you should call me."

He holds the piece of paper out to me.

I smirk, grabbing the folded paper, "You'll be the first on my list," I tell him.

"Alright. . .bye Harry." Lou turns around, walking the opposite way.

"Goodbye, Lou." I whisper, smiling to myself as I watch after him.

Once I find my car, I sit in the driver seat, going over what just happened.

I take out the piece of paper he gave to me, unfolding it. There, in scribbled, barely legible handwriting is his phone number sitting next to his name. . .his full name.

 

I can't help but smile.

 

 

"Louis."


End file.
